Soon
by AWorldWithout
Summary: Word centered fiction about Clove and Cato. Rated T because I'm paranoid and it's the Hunger Games.


Soon.

Everyone disregards her because of her height and because of her age. At 10, Clove finds her petite body shadowed, both literally and figuratively, by everyone in the training center. She says to herself soon_._ _Soon, she will show them._ But for now, she will bide her time.

At 11, any skill she shows is ignored or is passed off as beginner's luck. She glares up at everyone, but no one heeds her. _Soon, no one will dare to ignore her._ People pat her head and shove her around, but she keeps her cool and reminds herself. _Soon._

At 12, she meets Cato. He's only two years older than her but everyone admires him. He's six foot two and towers over everyone. Now, she has been shoved further into a shadow by the giant of a 14 year old. Yet, her fiery spirit persists in saying: _soon. Soon, people will fear and admire me._ She throws her knife. As per usual, it hits the center of the target. She is ignored. She sighs through her nose and leaves.

He quickly skims through his crowd of fans. It consists mostly of girls that find him attractive. There are scattered few guys who admire his skill and his strength. Cato skirts through the rest of the crowd. He sees a small figure with her back towards him facing a target.

Her knife seemingly just finds the bulls-eye by itself, after being launched with a simple flick of her dainty wrist. She is ignored. He stares and stares at her. His baby blue eyes fill with want. He wants to see her face. _He feels like he needs to see her face._

Instead she just sighs through her nose, and leaves, her petite form disappearing from his sight almost at once. He sighs and turns away, leaving the premises of the school and his fans behind.

At 13, she speaks with the sword prodigy, who is no other than Cato himself. A crazy fan draws Clove away and screams at Clove for talking with **her** Cato. Hers and hers only, apparently. Clove rolls her eyes. As if anyone could hold a claim on brutal, bloody Cato. She is challenged by this girl. This is no abnormal occurrence, because fighting is promoted at this school.

It's over in a matter of seconds. The girl charges at her and Clove neatly side steps the girl and before the girl could turn around, Clove was upon her. She flips the struggling girl and traces her nail over the girl's throat. She struts away.

And suddenly, she is the center of attention for beating Alexis, who was 3 years older than her. She is isolated even further, but can still hear the murmurs about her. She thinks, _soon._ _No one would dare to ignore her._

He speaks to her shortly after. Her voice is not of the typical falsetto voices he so commonly hears, but is more of a purr. It rolls like velvet off her tongue, and he is enchanted just by her saying her own name. Clove. Every note and pitch of her voice is smooth and silky.

She is hauntingly beautiful. Her violet eyes shimmer and radiate out her confidence and power, despite her fragile size. Her complexion is pale and contrasts greatly with her dark hair. Her features are angled and fierce, yet aloof and detached. If Cato believed in angels, Clove would be head angel. Strike that, she would be a _dark _angel.

She is ripped from his side by Alexis. He fears for her. Alexis was and is brutal and shows no mercy. But she neatly sidesteps and has Alexis at her mercy within seconds of the challenge. She walks away as if nothing ever happened. He stares in disbelief.

At age 14, she is chosen to participate in the Hunger Games. After arriving and seeing the tributes, she thinks, _soon. Soon, life will be drained out of those fearful eyes._ She stares at her district partner, Cato. She stares intensely, analyzing him and finding out weaknesses.

In training, she spears a dummy perfectly and sees Cato staring at her in almost awe. She walks up to him and purrs out, "Soon" while vaguely gesturing to the speared dummy. She winks slightly. He laughs. She memorizes the sound of it, wishing that she could hear it more and more. Wishing that all of his numbered laughs would be caused by her. But soon, too soon, they are placed in the arena.

She screams.

"Cato! Cato!"

She hears a response, far off. Too far. She closes her eyes and says, _soon. Soon I will meet Iron, mother and father again. _She murmurs to herself, _soon. _

Soon, the rock comes crashing down on her head. She gasps at the contact and counts her breaths. 1, 2, 3, 4. Cato cradles her head. She was looking forward to leaving the world, but now she thinks, _too soon. I am leaving Cato, too soon, too soon. ._

The life trickles out of her haunting violet eyes and watches as the last of it disappears. Clove is no more. She left his side too soon. They were supposed to be together forever as victors, as friends, as possibly even lovers. But she was gone.

So he fights and fights and fights. Then he meets a pair of violet eyes. They glare back at him and the mutt growls. Its growl incorporates all the pitches and notes he loved so dearly.He stops fighting. He starts staring. The pain is barely felt, as if just by looking into those eyes, everything else was of no matter. Then as he falls, something that tells him Clove was never gone. It's just barely heard, but heard nonetheless. The mutt makes a soft purring sound.

"Please." He whispers with the remaining strength he has left. But he doesn't mind anything anymore because he dies with the image of violet eyes in his mind and the word soon on his lips.


End file.
